The Sun. — London, England, 1864-08-17 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, WEDNESDAY EVENING, AUGUST 17, 1864. TEE CIVIL WAR IN AMERICA, (From the Times' 'Correspondent.) Nzw YORK, Aug. 29. General Grant's supposed change of base to the north of the James at Deep Bottom was but a ruse guerre. It does not appear, however, to have answered its purpose. The Confederates provided for the danger that might have been incurred had the movement been genuine, but they left no weak point elsewhere in consequence of their vigilance at this. They knew that Grant had been undermining Petersburg, if they did not know the exact spot in which he had been operating, and took all possible precautions to defeat or circumvent him. At the early dawn of Saturday morning, the 30th of July, the grand movement which in the expectation of the President, the War Secretary, the Lieutenant. General, and of all who had been admitted into the secret, was to retrieve the ovil fortune of the cam paign and open the way to Richmond over the ruins of Petersburg, was made. A mine 400 yards in length, upon the construction of which the sappers and miners of the Army of the Potomac, under the personal inspection of Generals Grant and Barns side had been secretly engaged for 33 days, was successfully sprung. Six tons of gunpowder stored at its extremity were exploded, and a Confederate earthwork mounting 16 guns and def en d e d b y 500 soldiers of the South Carolinian Volunteers was hurled into the air, carrying above the housetops the mangled, blackened, and mutilated cerpses of two or three h u ndred men, and s h a ki ng w i t h th e repercuss i on the city and the country for miles around. The order to charge over the ruins was immediately given, and the news of the great deed was transmitted to the Government and to the Northern people. It reached this city on Sunday forenoon, when the ears of the multitudes pouring out of church were saluted by the discor dant shouts of the newsboys selling extra edi. tions of the Herald, containing what was entitled the " Glorious Victory of General Grant," " the Destruction of Petersburg !" and " Capture of Rich mond !" Sunday news in New York as in London is gene rally looked upon with suspicion, but the details in this case were so circumstantial that disbelief of the main facts was impossible. Shoddy rejoiced and made merry; the Loyal League was jubilant—the office-holders, anxious for a new lease of power nu. der Mr Lincoln, were light of heart ; and credulous people, who form the great majority in this impul sive city, were loud in their praise of Grant—of his bulldog tenacity of purpose, of his unrelenting grip of his enemy, and of his genius as a soldier. They called,him a Titan in a blue coat," a greater than 'Wellington or Napoleon, the restorer of the Union, the Saviour of his country, and much more to the same effect—though it must be added that there were not wanting thousands who took a calmer view of the matter and resolved to moderate their joy until fuller details were received—nor many who hoped that the victory to be gained would be worth, in the future saving of life, the awful butchery by which it was accomplished. No farther news was received until three or four hours after the publie cation of the morning papers of Monday, most of them put into their own language the wild hopes of the people, and proclaimed that not only was the backbone of the rebellion broken this time, but that its head was " smashed in," and the life fast oozing and ebbing out of it. But by twelve o'clock there were ominous rumours in Wall-street which sent up the pries of gold 5 and ultimately 8 per cent. It was stated in true American parlance that " Grant was whipped out of his boots ;" that the assaulting party had been repulsed with awful loss ; that 10,000 men had been sacrificed in the vain attempt to carry the inner line of the Confederate works, and that Grant had left the scene of disaster to consult with President Lincoln at Fortress Mona roe. This time rumour was not at fault, or, if her tongue had said the thing which was not, it was only to the extent of overestimating losses which no one could exactly compute, but which were known to be enormous. In the evening the full details were published. The Confederates, startled by the explosion, were not paralysed. Though Grant opened upon them with a discharge of all the artillery along his line, General Beauregard was at his post—undaunted, ready, and alert, and did such murderous execution upon the advancing columns of the Federals, mowing them down from the front and from both sides with a continuous discharge of shot and shell that no mortal troops could hold their own against it. The white comba tants of the 2d, the 15th, and 18th divisions fought valiantly, as long as a hope remained, to carry the inner lines at the point of the bayonet, and just at the critical moment the coloured disision under Brigadier-General White was ordered to their sup port. Tne sight of these auxiliaries seemed to inspire the Confederates with redoubled fury, and such a fire was opened upon them as decided the contest, in a few minnteq The poor neernes fell literally by hundreds at every discharge. Their officers were killed off. They had none left to order them what to do or to animate their failing courage by a word of cheer or of command. They turned and fled, helter-skelter, and the day was lost. The Black Brigade of the Army of the Potomac virtually ceased to exist. The killed, the wounded, and the prisoners amounted to between 4,000 and 5,000. 1 The white regiments which bore the first brunt of the advance, suffered as severely ; so that according to the best estimate that can be formed out of the conflicting reports from the field it seems no exagge ration to say that this abortive attempt of General Grant to thunder his way into Petersburg must have cost him B,COO if nut 10,000 men. it is said by his admirers—for the more reckless he shows himself the mere he is praised—that this failure will not interfere with Grant's plans, and that he will try rgain, even should he lose one half of his army in the at tempt, hopeless to others but by no means hopeless to him, This, however, depends upon Mr. Lincoln. The two had a consultation on board the steamer Baltimore, which proceeded to sea, out of the reach of eavesdroppers, where they no doubt debated what was beat to be done. If neither of them can see that Petersburg and Rich mond are virtually impregnable, that the campaign is a failure, and that if the Army of the Potomac do not voluntarily move towards Washington it may be driven thitherward against its will and with tremendous loss, they aro too blind to palpable realities to be fit for the task of Government. There is scarcely a Northern man who does not admit the deep humiliation of this Confederate victory, achieved so easily that General Lee was able to spare a large force from the defences of Petersburg to carry fire and sword into the heart of Pennsyl vania, to destroy Chambersburg, to threaten Balti more, Washington, Pennsylvania, and Pittsburg ; and to bring home to the experiences of the Northern people the miseries which they have so long inflicted upon the South, and of which the citizens of New York and Boston are so utterly ignorant. None can yet tell what p asse d b etween the two high functionaries, or what painful feel ings must have been predominant in Mr. Lincoln's mind when ho knew—if he really does know —the extent of the calamity that has befallen his main army—that army by the victories of - which he hoped to secure such credit before the first week of November as would secure him that reelection to the Presidency on which in an evil hour for himself and his country he set his heart. Bat if he do not make the best of this very bad business and ca!l home the army to de fend Washington a still d ee p er h umi li a ti on m ay be I n Store for him, and the peace, which he cannot make by own magnanimity or the courage and fortune of his general, may be forced upon him at the sword'a Paint in the hands of a victorious enemy, prescribing the conditions in his helpless capital, and sending down to posterity the name of Abraham Lincoln as the last and worst Pre2idcut of the united frates, and the unskilful an d un l uc k y p il ot wee not on ly 17ade snipwreck of the glory but o f the liberty of his country. as it probably will, to the This defeat — lead in g , abandonment of th e campaign in Virginia —will make so end of the pretensions of Gen. Grant to the Presidency, if he ever had any, and to any chance o his nomination at Ceicago. As the day ap . i proaches w h en th e Democratic party s to assembl e in that city t o c h oose their leader the intrigues of e:i peliCns of b o th parties Eliape and deve. lopment. Were Mr Lincoln a true patriot, he would in face of present circumstances forego his shadowy claim to reelection, and quietly allow, if he did not even recommend, the people to make choice of a new man, for peace or war as their judgment might de. cide. But he is not of the heroic mould, was not born great, has achieved no greatness, and cannot even have greatness thrust upon him, so immeasure ably is he behind the position which he holds, but does not fill. He is not of the class of men who are equal to the task of self.sacrifice. Possession of power first fascinated and then demoralised him. He has got the idea from parasites and flatters, or, perhaps, from the shallow " depths of his own consciousness," that he is not only the first, but the wisest, greatest, and best man in the State, and the Heaven-sent instrument who is to achieve the salva tion of his country. And although his glaring failure and the discredit which his Administration has cast both at home and abroad oa the name of the Ame. rican people and their capacity for self-government has divided the Republican party, by whose vote he was elevated to power, Mr Lincoln does not take the hint to depart, but blunders on in his purposes, evidently as willing to ruin his party as to ruin his country, provided he have a chance to retain posses• sion of office. Were he out of the way the Republi. cans and Abolitionists would certainly unite their votes in favour of Gen. Fremont, and thus oppose a firm and perhaps successful front to the growing power of the Democrats. The latter, warned by th e divisions of their opponents, and remembering that it was only by their own fatal schisms in 1860 that Mr Lincoln was elected and the war inaugurated, are striving to forget minor differences and to unite at Chicago in support of one man. Whoever that man may be, they can carry his election if they will, provided always that his election be open and peace able as in happier days; and that under the war power and the plea of military necessity, Mr Lin coln do not declare martial law in such Steel or States as may be known to have so organised their votes as to give a majority against him. This danger is not chimerical. Mr Lincoln is constantly urged by the revolutionary faction to resort to a coup (Petal of this kind, and thus get rid of Gen. Fre mont and the Democratic candidate by one stroke. It is doubtful, however, if he has the nerve to be the first actor in such a revolution. If he had, the next six months of American history would be more in structive to the world than all the years that have preceded them ; and the believers in a Republican form of government based upon universal suffrage would see sights very likely to disgust them. Though the war section, daily diminishing in strength and influence, and losing faith in the ultimate success of military efforts to restore the Union, would cheerfully support M'Clellan as its candidate, the peace section, weary of the war, and loving liberty and State rights more than Union, will not register its votes for him, unless he will resign his commission in the Federal army. They urge that his recent speech at West Point on the inauguration of the monument to the Federal soldiers slain in battle was much too warlike in its tone and tendency, unless modified by subsequent action on his part, or wholly disavowed, to entitle him to con fidence. They also urge that as an advocate of State rights, upon which alone he can be elected, he ought to throw down a sword which the President can compel him to draw in support of a contrary principle. General M'Clellan hesitates to adopt this course, and if his hesitation continue for 10 days or a fortnight longer his chance will be lost. He will not secure the nomination, and the Peace Democracy controlling the Convention will bring forward an other candidate, pledged to an armistice, to a con vention of the States, and a return to the principles of the Constitution—which leave slavery to local legislation, and extrude it wholly from the domain of Federal politics. There are at least a dozen promi nent Northern stateseeen who would gladly consent to stand upon this platform, among whom, in addi tion to those mentioned in previous letters, are ex- President Millard Fillmore and Franklin Pierce, and Mr. Dean Richmond, president or chairman of one of the great New York Railway companies, and manager or wire-puller, of what is called the " Al bany Regency"—a clique or " ring" of persons who control the Tarnmany,or original organisation of the New York Democracy. At present, while M'Clellan holds aloof, Mr. Dean Richmond is the favourite of a large section of the Democrats, and the name more likely than any other to unite in its support the suffrages of his party. But there are yet 27 days before :the nomination, and in that time new names may come uppermost and old ones go down. The star of peace is in the ascendant. The war is an admitted failure. The North has under taken what it cannot accomplish, It has already paid more than it, likes is men, money, character, and the substantial blessings of liberty and pros perity, and hesitates to make further sacrifices. Were M'Clellan to come bravely out, and declare emphatically that he was for peace and compromise, no other candidate could stand before him. The issue would be between him and General Fremont, and the triumph of either would be in all probabi lity bring compromise, if it did not bring union. The next month promises to be an eventful one both in politics and war, and possibly also in finance. The Presidential contest will soon absorb every body's attention, and men will be much more urgently needed at Washington than at Richmond or Atlanta, or else all signs and portents are decep tive. THE DEFEAT OF GRANT AT PETERSBURG. The correspondent of the New York limes gives details of the repulse of the Federal attack upon Petersburg. lie says that some one had " blun dered" in a manner " worse than a crime." " "The affair of Saturday has," he says, " lost to us the labour of a month's preparation, and, worse than all this, has sacrificed thousands of valuable lives." The correspondent thus sums up the relative pude tions of the two armies at the period of the battle, the object sought to be gained by the attack, and the plans of the few days preceding : " With the :passage of the James was exhausted all possibilities of a movement by the left dank, with Richmond as the objective point. Nothing, therefore, remained to General Grant bet to assault the rebel lines in front of him at Petersburg. The past six weeks have been devoted to preparation for this assault. From dsy to day, by the aid of the shovel and the pick, our lines have Leen insidi. onely advanced by zigzags and covered w a ys, until the outlying pickets of both armies have scarcely averaged 500 yards' distance between them. Along portions of the tine the interval between the rifle pits was scarcely 150 yards. The ground ever which our advances have been made is itself a series of natural fortifications, adding vastly to the difficulty of taking possession of it. Perhaps your readers will form a more perfect opinion of its features if I tell them that it very much resembles Greenwood Cemetery in its profile. There are similar hills and eminences, eloping more or less precipitovedy into ravines, which intersect at every conce',vable angle, and many of the elevations are thickly wooded. Over ground of this impracticable nature our men have steadily fought and dug their way, driving the enemy before them until only one hill remained for them to take to place our guns in a position commanding at an easy range the town of Petersburg. It is known as Cemetery-hill. 1:8 crest:, frowning with guns, is not more than 800 yards distant from our advanced works, and its gently sloping sides are welted with long rows of earthworks, pitted with redouble and rectums and ridged with serried salicnts and curtains, and all the skilful defe nces known to skilful military en gineers. The vital i mportance to us of this point will readily be admitted. T o gain it by direct as sault must necessarily cost many lives, but to gain it in the cheapest manner gave occasion for the dia. play of that high strategy of which General Grant nee long since proved himself the rneeter There• fare it was that on Tuesday night last the 2il Carps, under General Hancock, and two divisions of cavalry under General Sheridan, and another division under General Kautz, crossed the James river for tho purpose of engaging the enemy, who misled by some preliminary operations of General Foster's cemmand at Deep Bottom, and also of a portion of the 19th Corps at Strawberry Plains, a mile below, had a day or two earlier heavily rein forced the troops in the vicinity of Malvernehill. The dernotietretien here had preciee/y the effect which General Grant desired. Fearing a serious attack, Lee despatched a column, estimated at from 12,000 to 15,000 strong, from before Petersburg, and the railroad between Petersburg and Richmond was kept busy on Friday and Friday night in transporting the troops. To keep up the rebel Ge neral's delusion, an immense train of more than 400 empty covered waggons, mainly the transpor tation of the 6th Corps, crossed the Appomatox on Friday in broad daylight, in fall view of rebel sig nal lookouts at Bermuda Hundred, as if destined for the army at Deep Bottom. But on Friday night, as the rebels were hurriedly taking posses sion of their new line, the 2d Corps and the cavalry were quietly withdrawn, with an additional facility for rapid movement in a third pontoon bridge laid across the James in the afternoon. By daylight this morning, these troops were nearly all in position to cooperate with the remainder of the army in the at tack. The strategy was, therefore, perfect, and no share of the reverse can be attributed to failure in this part of the programme. All these stratagems, too, were conducted with such secrecy that informaa tion of their precise bearing was narrowed down to the circle of the Corps Commanders. Until late on Friday night few persons in the army were disposed to believe differently from what General Lee suss• pected—viz., that a movement upon Richmond was intended from the north side of the James, and were only undeceived when, at one o'clock this morning, the troops were got into position for the assault. The tactics of the movement were under Gen. Meade's direction. His arrangement of troops and order of battle were as follows :—The 18th Corps (Gen. Ord) was withdrawn on Thursday morning from its position on the extreme right, resting on the Appomattox, being relieved by Mott's division of the 2d Corps, and massed in rear of the 9th Corps (Burn side's), the centre of our line in front of which the attack was to be initiated. The extreme left, held by the sth Corps (Warren's) was to be in readi ness to advance as soon as Burnside pierced the works in front of him. Collaterally, but in unison with the advance of the infantry, every piece of siege artillery posted along the line was ordered to open simultaneously upon the enemy at a given sig nal made by the explosion of a mine containing S tons of powder, which was placed directly beneath the rebel battery which Burnside was to assault. Not only were the siege pieces to open a fierce fire, but all the field artillery which could be got into position after the opening of the battle was to advance as opportunity offered, and bring their batteries into play. Upon this awful fire of heavy guns it was natural that great stress should be placed, in the expectation that the shock of its suddenness would have a demoralising effect, and make the way of the infantry easier. So far all was well arranged, suocess was promising, and much confidence was felt in the result. The time fixed for the assault was half-past 3, when, without any moon, an almost Cimmerian darkness would effectually shut out from the enemy the un avoidable stir and bustle of the troops as they got into position. But just here the first misfortune of the day occurred. Upon attempting to fire the mine the fuse or slow match failed, and another was tried, I am told, with a similar result, The third fuse was successful in its mission, but the hour's delay had made it broad daylight, and in consequence the enemy's suspicions were aroused (at least along a portion of his front) and we were robbed of the ad vantage of a surprise. This was a very great mis fortune. The army felt it to be such as they stood in suspense and silent impatience in the cold grey of the morning, crouching on their arms, Of the effect of the explosion you have been apprised. Ile mine has been talked of in the army for weeks, but only with 'bated breath, although whisperings concern ing it have been wafted over from the rebels, Clearly they did not know its precise locality, and few on our bide I suspect were any wiser. It has been tacitly acknowledged as an improper subject for conversation, and the most curious have appeared to feel the propriety of checking themselves. The noise of the explosion was a dull, rumbling thud, preceded, I am told, by a few seconds' swaying and quaking of the ground in the immediate vicinity. The earth was reat along the entire course of the excavation, heaving slowly and majestically to the surface, and folding sideways to exhibit a deep and yawning chasm, comparable, as much as any ruing else, to a river gorged with ice, and breaking up under the influence of a feeahet. But there was a grander effect than this observable also. Where the charge in the burrow was heaviest directly under the rebel work, an immense mass of dull red earth was thrown high in air, in three broad columns, diverging from a single b ,, se, and assuming the shape of a Prince of Wales's feather of colossal proportions. Those near the spot say that clods of earth weighing at least a ton, and cannon and hu man forms, and gun carriages, and small arms were all distinctly seen shooting upward in that fountain of horror, and fell again in shapeless and pulverised atoms. The explosion effected what was intended. It demolished the 6-gun battery and garrison of Ulla regiment of Carolina troops, and acted as the wedge by opening the way to the assault. Our men were to rush through this breach, and so beyond upon the second line of works which crown the crest of Cemetery-hill, thus compelling the enemy to evacu ate the first line, or, what was more probable, to surrender under the fire of our artillery. The awful instant of the explosion had scarcely passed when the dull morning air was made stagnant by the thunder of our artillery. From 9,5 pieces niched in every hillside commanding the enemy's position, there belched out sheets of flame and milk-white smoke, while the shot and shell sped forward, screeching, howling, rumbling like the rushing of a hundred railroad trains. But why attempt to give an idea of such indescribable and awful sound? The sudden transition from utter silence to fiercest clamour was terrible. So the rude combat raged without sign of slackening for two long hours. At first the:enemy w as s l ow i s rep l y i ng t o our fire, but gradually their pi eces were b roug ht into action, and in less than half an hour banks of angry smoke partially veiled the scene from both sides. In accordance with th e p l an of t h e b a ttl e the Ist divi s ion o f the 9th Corp s (L edl i o ' B) was made the assaulting c o l u mn. Gene ra l L edlie forme d hi s troops in three lines of battle, h av i ng eac h a front of about 600. The 2d brigade of this division (Gea neral Marshall) led the assault, followed by the Ist brigade (General W. F, Bartlett), and the third line made up of the 3d bzigade (Colonel Gould's). The left of Ledlie'a division was supported by Brigas dier-General llartraupft's brigade of the 2d division (Wilcox's), and its right by General Griffin's brigade of Potter's division. The 4th division of the 9th corps (all negrocs) was posted directly in rear of ;he assaulting column, to press forward whenever prac ticable, The 14th New York Heavy Artillery were the first to enter the breach made by the explosion. They bounded forward at the word, in the midst of the shock of the artillery, through the dense clouds of flying dust, and, clambering over the debris, found themselves violently pushed down into the yawning crater. The sight which there met them must have been appalling. Bodies of dead rebels crushed and mangled out of all resemblance to humanity, writhing forms protruding here, and leg s s t ruggl i ng there, a ver y hell of horror and tort ure , con fi ned to a space 50 feet wide. But the time was in length and half as many partly buried, arms not favourable to th e p l ay of humane prompt i ng% This chaos of mingled humanity mixed with debris of implements and munitions of war must be unheeded. Enough for the storming party to do was found in ex huming two pieces of rebel cannon with theircsisans, and in obedience to the law of solfspres, rvation, turning these guns upon the enemy, who was throw ing into the crater a shower of shells and minio balls from the hill beyond, and from points on either side, which they still held on this first line. Getting I their pieces into position promptly, and under cover of thrir fire, the assaulting celumn wen referreed, and, at the ward of command, dee' cd forward once more to storm the crest of the hill. It was a task too great. They gallantly essayed it, and nearly gained the summit, subjected all the time to a withering fire, which increased in fierce. fleas at every step, until they became the centre of a converging storm of shot and shell. Attacked on the right flank and th e l e ft fl an k , i n front and roar, they s were compe l led to fall back to the partial pro tection of the crater, leaving their course thickly ttrewri ev:9- 1 . the dy;ag ziel the dead, Another account says that Col. Marshall, of the Ist division, had the advance, but as the terrific mass of earth loomed up so suddenly and so near them a momen tary fear was felt that it was one of our own forts which had been mined by the enemy. The delusion was an optical one, but still had its effect in restrain. ing the impetus of the first onset. I will not say the men became panicstricken, bat they hesitated, and the flue of battle swayed. At last the efforts of the officers prevailed, and the brigade—but not until some five or 10 minutes had elapsed—charged with a wild cheer. The Ist brigade, under the gal. lent Bartlett, was at their heels, and together Les lie's whole division charged through the breach. 'Mat few of the enemy were near by surrendered without a shot. The breach was filled with rebels, who were struggling to clamber out of the sand. These, more fortunate than their comrades, had been but partially buried. A detail was rapidly made, and our men went to work to exhume all they could, really as anxious now to disinter all whom a few minutes before they had been anxious to bury. As fast as extricated the rebels, with the other priso ners, were sent to the rear, the wounded to the hos pitals, where they arrived with the first of our own injured. Indeed the one ambulance was often filled with Union and rebel soldiers indiscriminately. Following came the 35th Regiment of Massachu setts, the engineers of the division, who set to work with their tools to reverse the slope of the rebel iine of intrenchments and open up a covered way to the works behind. Their efforts, however, were but vainly employed, as the sequel shows. The coloured troops, upon the heels of this repulse, were ordered to charge, and they moved out gallantly, A hun dred yards gained and they wavered. Then the 39th Maryland Regiment, which led, became panic stricken and broke through to the rear, spreading demoralisation swiftly. Their officers urged them, entreated them, threatened them, but failed to rally them, and the mass, broken and shattered, swept back like a torrent into the crater which was already choked with white troops. The con fusion incident to this wholesale crowding and crushing of the negro soldiers into the ranks of the white troops very nearly caused the panic to spread. Had such been the result, it might have been fortunate, and many a brave fellow who after wards fell might have escaped his fate. But at the moment the rebel fire, which had been murderously directed upon the place, materially slackened, and the white soldiers recovered their stamina. Our lines were once more straightened, and just in time to check an impetuous charge, which was after. wards repeated, and with a similar result of heavy loss to the assailants. Another account says that in rear of the main column of attack the coloured division had been formed, with a view to passing the other divisions when they had gained the outer line, and making this a starting point for the con tinuance of the charge. The first division held the centre, with the second and third on either flank, and now the fourth advanced beyond. The troops were in two columns, each brigade constituting a column. Their splendid discipline could not but be observed, and in the early part of the contest no soldiers behaved more gallantly. They charged upon the next and an interior line of the enemy, and for a time gained decided advantages, as is at tested in two rebel flogs which they captured and brought off with them. But the rebels, exasperated as we know them now to have been at sight of the negroes, fought with the fury of devils, and rein forcements coming to their aid—our signal officers counted six brigades hurried from a camp beyond the town—the tide of battle turned. The coloured troops gave way, broke in confusion, when the rebels, having repulsed their charge, charged them n turn, and then they ran, a terror-stricken, dis ordered mass of fugitives, to the rear of the white troops. In vain their officers endeavoured to rally them with all the persuasion of tongue, sabre, and pistol. Whatever discredit attaches to the troops themselves, their officers are beyond reproach. A correspondent of the World, in a special de. spatch dated on Monday, says when the negro trcops were ordered forward their officers took the lead, and from the manner iu which they started it was believed they would easily ac complish their task. On arriving at the first line, however, they seemed to waver and hesitate, and finally, the great mass took position behind the earthworks and in the fort where the other divisions were massed. Quite a number, hosiever, kept on their course, and those who were not kilted or wounded were taken prisoners before they could save themselves. As soon as the rebels discovered the line halting they made a desperate charge, which was as fiercely met by volleys from the white troops, while the negroes fled in wild disorder to the rear. Many a brave officer lost his life while doing his utmost to rally them, and although portions of them were got together and led forward by these gallant men, they could not induce them to attempt another charge, while it is said by many that they broke no less than three times, each time suffering the most frightful loss. The enemy's batteries were so placed as to enfilade the ground over which they had gone, and perfect showers of canister were sent among them each moment they were in range. It soon became evident that the effort to carry the hill was useless, so mum time having been lost in trying to get this division to do the work ; and about 9 o'clock the order was given to hold as much of the ground in our possession as possible, while the remainder was to be evacuated. As coon as this became known everybody felt that the entire object of the movement had been defeated. And now the victorious flushed enemy bore down upon the white divisions, and the shock was a fearful one. The headlong charge was stayed and repulsed again and again. Numbers of our men had huddled into the crater of the exploded fort, and the enemy's mortar shells burst among them, causing a large sacrifice of life. The enemy at the same time pressed the flanks of our army with infantry and enfiladed them with artillery. At length came the order to fall back, but it was not accomplished without an additional and heavy lobe in prisoners. Generals Griffin and Hartraugtt nar rowly escaped. General Bartlett, less fortunate, is in the enemy's hands, He had been advised to retire at a time when he could have done so in comparative safety, but he waited With his brigade to the last moment, and eventually became a prise. ner. H e went into th e fi g ht with his cane, and it is reported that his enemy's bullets. His bravery is the subject of ursi ft r u o r n e t i s during deepl wooden leg was tw ice hit by the was also Genera versal comment throughout the corps , and his cap deeply regretted. fight, as . General Grant was at the Meade. Lee was without doubt completely out manceuvred, and but for the remarkable rapidity of his movements and a combination of unfortunate circumstances would have met with a:severe reverse. By a series of stratagems and the marching and countermarching of the 2d Corps General Grant had e entirely p troops deceived withdrawnhis ep from our front and takeno opponent, and a large number to the north b an k o f the James to oppose Hancock and Sheridan. The moment these generale cam rnenced falling back to rejoin Grant, Lee returned his troops with all the rapid it y in his p o wer, but would still have been too late b u t f o r that series of circumstances that sometimes arises to frustrate the best laid plans. At the time correspoodence left Petersburg only a very general idea of the losses sustained could be formed. The Herald correspqne dent says that the killed and wounded numbee cer tainly not more than 1800, and fully 1000 prisone:s have been taken. A number of our wounded fell into the enemy's heeds. About 3uo of the coloured troops were captured. What the enemy's loss is we do hot know ; but we have about 400 prisoner re The Times' cort ::'auvudent says that the losses on both bides were very sevs7!'e. :.re rueghlyThe wounded in the hospitals a re mo re than 1,000. Probably 1 , 800 were taken p r i sone rs, A nd th e jellied wou'd swell the list:materially. The losses in Ledi:e's division put at fon - 11.200 to 1,500, though there are no correct means of getting at the factor as yet. Competent judges say that the day's operation has coat us between 4,000 and 5,000 men, The negro division alone lost 53 officers." Tho correspondent of the New York, Tribune sa y s , -. "Everybody who Itiltnessed the transaction con curs in saying that it was most miserably managed; that the rebels had no t one-fifth of our force within their breastworks ; at td that the rest of the army were eilent speetatemi rf the eoene of slaughter. They say that the affair ought to have been a suc cess if rightly managed. The assault, which was intended to have been a surprise, though only par tially successful in that respect, would have been successfully executed but for the blundering of somebody. The worst troops in the army led the line of assault—troops who heretofore had acted badly on various occasions. Our dead and wounded yesterday morning at 10 o'clock had not been re moved. They were lying festering in the sun within less than 300 yards in advance cf our lines. General Grant met the President yesterday morn ing at the mouth of James River, having come down for that purpose. They had a conference on board the steamer." A party of Confederate raiders are said to have set fire to the town of Chambersburg. A despatch from Harrisburg of the 31st of July gives the par. titulars thus : "General M'Causland was in command of the rebel troops when they burnt Chambersburg. He is a desperate, ferocious, and untamed freebooter, ready at any time to violate the usages of honour able warfare, in order to gratify his dark and malig nant passions. After he had taken formal posses session of the town he made proclamation demanding 100,000 dole. in gold. It was, of course, impossible to comply with such a demand, made no doubt in full confidence of its failure, and sure of its afford ing a pretext to execute the premeditated plan for destroying Chambersburg. The fact that the most valuable portion of the merchandise had been res moved previously added to the rage and disappoint ment of the rebels, and when they were thus inspired were ordered to fire the Court-house, Town-hall,and Bank buildings. A strong breeze communicated the flames to the surrounding buildings. Parties of soldiers, having sacked the several drug and chemical stores, manufactured turpentine balls, which they threw in all directions, creating as many different flames in different localities, which soon united in one general conflagration. Speedily the scene became heartrending and appalling. The cracking and roaring of the flames as they leapt from house to house, the shrieks of terrified women, panic stricken and suffering children, and the piti• ful appeals of the old and helpless formed an inde. scribable scene of horror. The citizens, without protest, had submitted to plunder, and had even appealed to the mercy of the rebel, but nothing could appease the butcher and incendiary M'Causland. Two hundred and sixty five of the most valuable and elegant public and private buildings were de. strayed. The town was fired at about 1 o'clock in the forenoon. The rebels remained just long enough to see the flames spread and got under proper head way when the alarm was given that Averill was approaching the town. Instantly every freebooter was in his saddle and hurriedly took to the St. Thomas-road, with Averill in pursuit. No intelli gence has reached Harrisburg concerning the direct effect of Averill's attack. It is believed, however, that he succeeded in punishing M'Causland very severely. A train heavily laden with commissary stores was despatched from this city this morning to Chambersburg to relieve the present wants of the houseless women and children of that town, who now crowded the surrounding fields and woods. Many residences of prominent citizens in the outskirts of the town were burnt, that of Colonel MiClure among others, with his stables and outhouse. Among other valuable property bnrnt were Lockhart and Howe's mills, Washabaugh's brewery, Ludwig's brewery, and many others. On Main-street the fire was started at Benjamin Chambers's residence on the west side of the street. The following residences were burnt :—W. G. Reed, George Chambers, Allen Smith's property, John Schofield; Matthew Welsh, estate of Joseph Eyeter, and the Female Seminary, Demick's drug store, James Watson's mansion and store, W. Getwich's, John Nagle, the Franklin house, the Chambersburg Bank, Gilmore's corner, Naylor's store and tin store, Spangler's drug store, Dr. Richard's office and dwelling, Burkhart and Hench's store and dwelling, the Post-office, Auchen burgh's jewelry store, Mrs. Bishop's establishment, the residence of J. George Wolfe, Dr. Hamilton's office, Judge Black's store, Jacob Hutton, J. M'Ciin took, Lewis Shoemaker, Simon Greenweli, the en tire property of the Riser estate, and the two pro perties of J. A. Gyst43r. The fire then skipped the residence of Dr. Fisher and two other dwellings. From Lu brick's up to the next corner every building is burnt." The Richmond Examiner of the 29th and 30th of July contains details copied from Georgia papers of a battle in front of Atlanta to show that the Confederates claim it as a decisive and complete victory; that they captured artillery, prisoners, and colours, and drove Sherman over a mile. Peo ple, however, were leaving Atlanta, as Sherman's shell were dropping freely in the city. The Macon Telegraph says that the Federal raid on the Mont gomery and Atlanta Railroad was thorough work, having torn up and burnt 25 miles of track. All public stares and buildings, mills, &c., were de• stroyed on the line of the raid, and all negroes and stock were driven off. The Montgomery and West Point Railroad is destroyed for 30 miles. The Augusta Chronicle says raiders had captured Talla. dega, and were but 25 miles from Montgomery, with no serious obstacles in their way to that city. Four thousand citizen soldiers had gathered at Co lumbus, Georgia, to prevent a raid on that place. The Alleged Robbery of Royal Marine Clothing. At the Woolwich Police-court yesterday, John Clarke, a pensioner from the Royal Marines, residing at 3, Elgin terrace, Woolwich, was placed at the bar before Mr Maude, charged with the illegal possession of 17 pairs of unmanu factured trousers, 13 flannel shirts, two pieces of white cloth, three pieces of calico, two pieces of holland. and numerous other articles, supposed to have been stolen from the work shops of the Royal Marine Barracks, where the prisoner was formerly employed as a tailor. The case excited unusual interest in consequence of the recent disclosures of fraud at the Royal Artillery Clothing Stores, and a large number of the military and Royal Marines were present. Pelice.contable Ling, a detective officer of the R divi sion, stated that in consequence of receiving information that a large amount or Royal Marine clothing was in the prisoner's possession he proceeded on the previous night to his residence at Elgin-terrace, and there found the property produced. Several brushes and other articles were branded with the broad arrow, and as the prisoner failed to give a satisfactory account of their possession witness took him into custody and removed the property in a cart to the police station. Jon, Watling, R.M., stated he was master tailor at the Royal Marine Clothing Stores, and the prisoner, who had been pensioned from the Royal Marines about five months, was formerly employed under him as foreman. He believed that the property produced came from the stores. Was certain that the white cloth did, and also the black coat pro duced, which was made of the white cloth and had been dyed. The Prisoner—l wish to say that Mr Watling gave me the white cloth and the calico produced some years ago. Witness—Well, I might have done so. Mr Maude—Then do you mean to say that you have any right to dispose of such property ? Witness—l have a certain quantity of materials served out to me, out of which I am expected to produce a certain number of articles, and, having done that, if any material remains I consider it belongs to me. Since the prisoner has left the Royal Marines I have given him out work occa sionally. Mr Maude—ls any other officers connected with the corps present? Lieut. and Quartermaster Melville Silver, Royal Ma rines, stated that ho was not present officially, but merely attended to hear the case. Mr Maude—l think we must have your evidence. Lieut. Silver was then sworn, and stated that the cloth ing department of the Woolwich division of the Royal Ma rine, was under his charge. He issued a certain quantity o f cloth :,' ad other materials monthly, out of which ho ex pected to :lave returned a certain number of articles of clothing. e Government was pretty liberal, they all knew that, and ,ho had no doubt that the master tailor mig ht h ave a nons a2erable quantity of materials left after he had supplied the arlici;s. At All events the master tailor gave satisfaction to I.vitness f and he bAieved also to the \,-,-rnment. With regard to the sWrts produced, witness must ol:°rvo that the proceeding was i.-regular, as the shirts ought not to have' come out of the mast er-tailor's shop, but out of the stores. The large quantity of articles now pro duced could not have, been carried out of the barracks at one time, as they would .blive been .stoppEll .by the military police. They must have t:.'een taken ,out at different times. Mr Maude —Well, we wilt not call:, -them perquisites ; but can you say that these articles have teen stolen from the barracks ? Wit ne ss—I have no doubt they c orne from the stores ; but the master tailor has from time. , to time an overplus, which of course accumulates. nAude—l think this is ca:ie oh requires more explanation, and that we ought to have more information as to the practice which prevails in the clothing depart ment of the corps. It is necessary that other officers should attend and give evidence, and I shall therefore ad mit the prisoner to bail in £2O, and his recognisances of £-10, to appear on this day week, Meanwhile the property will remain in the hands of the police. SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS, TDIES.—Her Britannic Majesty cannot help having a birthday. We can none of us help it, though many of us regard the anniversary with very different feelings from those it suggested thirty, or forty, or fifty years ago. But every 24th of May Queen Victoria is inevitably a year older, upon which occasion guns are fired and there are illuminations always very like those of last year. Fortunately there is a succession of new and de lighted spectators, who return home after midnight to tell their adventures. The State celebration of the day is not always on the day ; indeed the day itself seldom fits the public arrangements. Bat the anniversary is not a public holyday or festivity. The mass of the people know nothing about it. The larger half of London east of St. Paul's need not know anything about it. The State dues not go to the expense of a flegstaff, a festoon in calico or in green leaves, or a sky rocket, or a procession. 'there used, indeed, to be a procession of mail coaches, with the guards in new coats; there is now a parade behind the Horse Guards, a flag is raised on the tower of St. Martin's Church, and, as we have said, some small noisy ordnance are carted into St. James's Park, and there discharged with stunning effect. Such is the birthday of the most powerful, most secure, and most beloved Sovereign that ever sat on this throne. Strange to say, by the side of this cele bration runs another, also a royal birth day. The 4th of June survives in memory and at Eton. We have heard it observed that the 4th of June always will be the Royal birthday, and that Queen Victoria's will never be like it. We hope and trust it never will. This seemingly disloyal utterance will be understood by those who remember when every 4th of June the Militia met, fired several rounds in our market-places, and got gloriously drunk in the afternoon; who remember the speeches of the True Blue Clubs on that day ; who remember that the excesses of the French Revolutionists and the ambition of Napoleon were then considered to justify every social iniquity, every legal tyranny, and every official corruption. In fact, the 4th of June was a political, not a royal anniversary. It was the commemoration of a King just in that capacity which time has condemned. But our neighbours have an Imperial anniversary, and they celebrate it. They have selected a good day for it. The lath of August, besides its other associations in Roman Catholic countries, is the Fete-day of the present Emperor and of his uncle. The choice of the day, therefore, for this purpose amounts to a compromise or new concordat between the Empire and the Church. It is a day of peace, and without the taint of civil fend. Louis Philippe was obliged to accept the " Three Glorious Days" but allowed them gradually to lose tneir attractions. The Em peror had his choice ; indeed, he found a new anniversary in full force—the 24th of February. He took, however, neither this nor any other that might have been associated with the foundation of the Second Empire. He has availed himself of an assistance which few Frenchmen can venture to despise, and establish a partnership which the strongest Legitimist must respect. We, in this country, have nothing to do but to look on, and we are always glad to find cur neighbours at once happy, united, and religious. But such is the Fete of the Empire ; and it is celebrated with so much splendour and gaiety that, if a Londoner can afford it, he ought once in his life to take a return ticket and see Paris in its best attire and on its best behaviour. The French understand decoration, holi day sights and holiday sounds—every man, women, and child contributes to the festive whole with a unanimity we never see here. To be sure, it is the time when the colleges and gymnasia are breaking up, when pretty children are going about crowned with chaplets and bearing prizes, escorted by happy parents and congratulated by kind com rades. Paris itself is laid out and planned for spectacles. The gay troupes there have only to rush in from the side scenes, and you have the real opera before you. Can we stop to criticise what is cer tainly so charming, and what our own want may tempt us to covet ? If we do criticise, it is because we are not ourselves so carried away by the scene as to forget some historical incidents and eras of vicissitudes, and some inevitable proeesses of the human mind. We have seen half-a-dozen different fetes in our time at Paris, all national, but doomed to a very brief run, and, what is worse, outliving even their popularity. The anniversary of an Em pire must of course be political. It must undergo a constant comparison with Republican and Royal ' anniversaries. It must recall generations and even centuries from their grave. It must compel a con tinual reckoning of gains and losses, promises and petnorulances, the substitute and the thing laid aside. In private life wo most of us come in time to dread the anniversary of happy nativities, joyous weddings, and such white or golden days. There are families that, confident iu their deserts or trust ing to their fortune, assemble once a year round the family tree, and count kith in kin. But year by year they will care less for the small accessions which are but buds and germs of something yet to be, and will feel more end more their substantial and irreparable losses—the very giants of the grove fallen for ever. There may be no precise parallel to this in the annual review and stock-taking of an Empire, but if an anniversary is to be anything, and to answer any purpose, it must readily present to the memory as great a stock of benefits received or expected as the last or any former aenivere wiry. As soon as the Frenchman begins to feel himself a worse man for the new regime, or to fancy that France itself does not come up to the entire outline or the full brilliancy of any former epoch in comparison, he will feel his loyalty flag ging, and be once more set adrift on that sea of enterprise ever so dangerous to the Gallic tempera ment. In England such a process is impossible, and out of the order of our very nature Lbut is far otherwise across that narrow channel. How stands the case there? "This is France," says the French citizen—" the France that we have made, the empire we have founded, the Emperor we have elected, and the dynasty in which we still hope and confide. It is the work of our own hands, and we are justly proud of it. Has not the Emperor done this and that, and are there not new fields of glory open, to which the great Napoleon line will never be found wanting ? " Such is the Empire of the French, founded but the other day, and cer tainly the most successful institution of the age thus far. Four or five years ago we might have said, as we read the President's Message, that there was something in the world more promising than even the French Empire, We cannot say that now. The French Empire is almost alone in the earth as a new institution of the nineteenth century, com bining the liberty and vigour of the modern age with the chivalry and splendour of the ancient. But whether we wished it or not, this ever-recurring anniversary compels us to note the progress of this n ew and pretentious growth of time. What is the Empire doing for France ? What for Europe ? What for the World ? To the questions we ask every Frenchman will ask a thousand others ' • and if, on a favourable reply, the Emperor hopes for a new eatintion and new lease of power, he must take his chance of a reply that may not bo so favourable. POST.—John Bright among the salmon fishers. The great opponent of game, of its existence and its protection, the etrong-voieed denouncer of plea sure in its pursuit, is, as a contemporary announces who chronicles the movements of sporting men, at this moment staying at the shooting and fishing quarters of Mr. Bass, on the Spey, and has suc ceeded each day in bringing to the creel at least one salmon or grilse. We are sincerely glad to hear it. We congratulate the preservers of rivers, of moors, and of stubble fields upon their convert, and we congratulate John Bright upon the fresh means he has seized of again obtaining the health and vigour for which he was once so remarkable. Had he long ago spent upon the banks of the Spey, or on the moors that look upen it, the hours he wasted in his anti-game campaign in hot committeee-rooms, Mr. Bright would have been a wiser and a stronger man. What a singular and extensive change has come about in the public mind since that day when the apostles of the uti litarian school p reached a g ainst sports and amusements, not because, like the steeple hatted soldier pulpit men of the Comwellian age, they deemed them sinful, but because they regarded every man who'did aught save manipulate cotton as a more castaway, and every moment that was not spent in its manufacture as wasted to the nation. Thou Cobden railed against the grand old oaks of the nobleman's park as useless, and Bright counted the grains of wheat iu the crept of a partridge, and denounced all who promoted their breeding as the enemies of the human rice. It has passed away, that crusade against what were, or were conceived to be, the privileges of the territorial class. :,right catches salmon in an exclusive river, and the wealthy Quaker of Lancashire, the chief:7:st among its great manufecturers, rents moors a nd rivers in Scotland, and promotes in Ireland the p of salmon with th e sa me energy and wise appli- roducliou cation of capital as he has displayed in the manu facture of cotton goods iu Lancashire' Nor would any one be less likely than the successful proprietor of the "sev er al" fisher-is in Galway to follow the example of the peaceful Geddes of the Solwas-, an d throw open his sa:mon pools and streams to a crav ing public. The crusade is over, have exchanged their sword and epethe crusaders ar for the g un w ere to blow a trumpet the rod, nni if they at all, it would be in the shape of a straight horn. at a cover side as a fox breaks away under the nose of the quondam anti-sportsman, mounte.d a three-hundred guinea thoroughbred. t al! excellent thing that it is so, and th at peace and good fellowship have been established between country and town, not by the defeat of the at tacked, but by the blending of the combatants, and upon the inexplicable principle which pro duces that unaccountable result, a pl um p udding, the creation of a homogeneous whole b y the milt ing of the most dissimilar ingredients. Public opinion, the convictions, deep convict ions they sometimes call them, of the public mind. Phrases. The public never gets beyond having imp ulses, 5E these . are as shifting and convertible as the Nal. binot . ions in a kaleidoscope. Ten years ago opinion was for ploughshares—now, it gives th ? highest prize to the gun that can destroy the larges. number of lives in the shortest time—ten years ago. a man with a beard and a tarn-down collar wonia have been mobbed—ten years ago it was a conviction of . the public mind that England could not exist years ago without Manchester and America--ten. we should have made a garroter the pet of LI fondly„r public foolish chaplain, instead of flogging him --ten ears ago the whole Liberal press would have howled a the man who proposed to make salmon Pr°P e and to render his watery habitation an .b-14e.n the fended by the two-edged sword of the la vir ' ll a nd ten person of a policeman with his truncheon years ago every Jack was to do all work and tt , ll ,, play, however dull a boy it might make hir " - s ha ve have changed all that, thank Heaven ! 'W t i all beards—we have 18 theatres open hig:htly is London—we all fish, shoot, and hunt — m ° rifs, and ► rivers yield a better profit than the best arab l.e and a salmon has less chance of coming tide ' lri r v et his end than a young lady who dismisse s a lover whom she dislikes. England is a paradise 1 3 ° f Ly. tie rs, horsedealers, gunmakers, roadmakers , gamekeepers, fishermen, and owners of sP erti ge lodges. The spirit of our Norman ancestor Ilia abroad,. master of the situation, and Saxon ', a ° ba Bright has become a convert for fear he sho d made captive. Long life to John Bright, and more luck to his fishing. We hope we shall hear to te ,. ° o ,. of the fere naturce theory. If a salmon is Pr°P e .ll l ; v vlt surely a pheasant may be brought properly the category ; if eggs are under the wing of the, la m ' surely the bird may be that is hatched from them, Let . the partridge . and the pheasant be plac ed il a P to an intelligible footing. Let the people be ins' e hie . understand that the possession or pursuit of L a o • is no more a privilege than the possession or ell .);,, went .. of any other imaginable property; that t h e spirit of the old game laws no longer pervades e t , code, but that, nevertheless, no man has a rig ht h e r take partridges or pheasants, or grouse off s not tie man's land any more than he has to lift his ei a t t . is or his sheep. Let the law treat, in short, Nv", r " he called game at least as well as it does s almon! -" 110 game of the field is quite as much an element al t food of the people as the fish of the river, a® elible one may satisfy himself who will take the trail oto for the next six months of frequenting the w et t e d of the poor in London and our large towns• e t let ..he Chancellor of the Exchequer take th r e oe r ;n aa step towards correcting the mistaken imp r rege ci which exist among the lower classes with enable to property in game by abolishing the titit,, o f law which compels a man to buy, at the privateh Government, a license to kill, whether tor ed use or fur public sale the animalsl which he ha liras and reared. We can asaure him that nothing tended so much as this law to create and e",°,.urtilage in the mind of the lower classes an idea landed proprietor has no rights in regard °, t, the game, except, perhaps, the refusal to perm i police to take any notice of poaching. COUNTRY KETS• There was a modLeEraEteDsS h — ow T o u f Es f n re A. s it h . y a the wheat trade " is very slow, but we makgernaloll last Tuesday's prices. A few stria les of new wheat ° ing, quality various. Spring corn of all kinds firm- Averags—Aug. 15—Wheat ........ 40 91d p er qr. —Oats .... 225 9 d -- - —Beans 9s Sid -- - —Peas ..37s 514 "-Barley ........ 29s 20 --- at terdaaii o ' at:lir!. --- MELTON MOWBRAY—TtiEsDAY. , _hot, The following were the currencies :—New whito 6 stone , 42s Od to 46s Od new' red, ;288 Od to 44s per 3 6t , ; beans, 38s to 42s 'for old; new sorts, 358 to 37s Per for barley, —s to —8 for malting, and 27s to 29s per q, 04g grinding; new oats, 20s to 25s Od per 24 stone; to 295. RLIVPOL—TUESDAY. There was a small E att end O ance of both town and conal dealers at market to-day, and a rathe r slow business 'st done in English wheat at a trifle un der the p rices of 13 Friday. Prices for flour may be qu oted nominally if; altered, with very little inquiry. O ats and oatmeal. •' made the prices of last week. Indian co r n more plerit'; and rather cheaper. SHEFFIELD—TUESDAY. "eCSI To-day the wheat trade was very dull, and late Pr' ,a supported for most articles. The attendance was small, 8.- very little grain shown either in bulk or sample. 1 7, Oa Red wheat, per load of 3 imperial bushels... Ids Od t ° ii• Oa White ...17s 6d to 1!,,a If f New red 15s Oci to W pd .. • 1 9, 3 ) New white „ •.17s 6d to a /) -- 6d. to O.! 04 .. Beans ~ If 9, ...14s - ~_ ,„ Peas, per qr 4os Od to 4T s 04 Grinding barley, per qr 2BB Od to 3 s od Malting ditto, „ .. 32s Od to 35 04 975 Oats 22 , od to 7) Flour, Is 6d to Is 10d per 14 lb. --- GAINSBOROUGH—TuEsnA.Y. wheat Oue market to-day was rather thinly attended. A ua . was a little easier to buy. Barley in limi ted show, and changed in value. Oats were scarce, at extreme 03 Beans in request at more money. Foreign Mail Packet List. - MAILS DUE. Au g, A s Australia and Mauritius, via Southam p ton ....... 31 . , ' i ;•,, ‘•-•la Marseilles ......... seP t • 4. , .3razil and Cape Verd s, b y British p acket. ....... SeP t ' v. Capo of Good _Rope, Ascension, and St. Helena..A a g' i s China, Penang, and Singapore, via Southampton. Aug• „,,, Marseilles ...Aug. A' Falkland Islands ........................ ~. India (Calcutta), Gibraltar, via Southampton .................. Aug. ~ `',z , via Marseilles.... Aug,;',, India (Bombay), via Soutbampton ............ Aug. •f oo Aug. and Ceylon, via Southampton..Aug..l,,. via Marseilles ................ 4. Portuga1.... ........................ Malta, Egypt, and Aden, via Southampton...... Aug' i s, via Marseilles ........ A-ag'' 1 7, Newfoundland ..... ..ikag' ......................... Oporto and Vigo . ............. 0 , / 7, U. S. end British N. America, by Brit. packet.... Alia' by U.S. pack t... • . _„.. lg. by Canadian packet.nup• 09 All parts of West Indies, including Chili, Peru, !Av,. - . • I California. and British Columbia....._ .1.1•11••••••••••=•••••••••••••._.. ItIJ ......7 .- NNE.."*" Loss OF A CLYDE-BUILT BLOCK ADE il of th 6 Intelligence has been received by the lot 0 15- She loss of the new Clyde-built block-tide runner brantloct. dbi was on the run from Havana to Mob ile, and eventebasenture one of the blockade watchers. In orde r top oak' 3 d, or sinking she was run ashore at Fort Morgan °3 the „ le s inst. The cargo was thus saved, but th e steamer bel l " - o f s total wreck. The Ivanhoe was a paddle -wheel steal°er 400 tons b.m., or 173 tons register, and bu ilt bY IttAe°o. 0 40 Scott and Co., Cartsdyke, abont four mo nths ago, a,rl",tbiS the second of a fleet of seven stcamers built by them i ci d ` th io trade, She sailed from the Clyde on t he 14th May, l 3 n i fl y was her maiden trip to Dixie's Land.—Glasgoto ;9" Journal. , , rase ti [A DVERTISEMENT.I—HoIIa way's rills.— T. O t „ ° ,,, ea - and its troublus cause more discomfort, and bring n' ''.,d ill 6 happiness ihan is commonlysupposed The thousa"iodi that settle there may be dislodged or prevented by til) sure, cioua use of these purifying pills, which act a° o f tlia gentle, and acid aperient without annoying then erves 00, most susceptible, or irritating the most delicats c' r g ' ,l eon' tion. Holloway's pills will bestow some corafort, alloica f s e u r ff some relief on every headachy,' dyspeptic arl-- lf 04 erer, whose tortures make him a burden to'bi'":ll to a bugbear to his friends. These pills haf,,e2olsfereed live populara paralysed rem ed digestion, fcr a. weak w ich stomach,yi e yield forw i ' t i L!' l ' l ' ) tl' o t their regulatin ,, "te . b , purifying, and tonic clif l 2___.------ ---- difUculty 4. Births. DUCRWORTIL—On the 12th inst at Cl e velands , Davilil3l3l *, the wife of Wm. Duckworth, 11.tq., of a daughter. .0, ERROLL.—On the 11th inst. at Slaine Castle, Ab erd shire, the Countess of Erroll, of a eon. WEBSTER.—On the Vitt inst., at Eaton ....is...o r t Tr ii n do if° of Captain E. B. Webster, of a son. A 110 ,1°°. WICKHAM.—On the, wi fe inst., at Pen-y-POUnu o f a Abergavenny, the, wife of Major r, Wickhaalt daughter. marriages. , 0 4, AYERST--TENNANT.—On the 11th inst., W. E. - 5 -h o ry, .li,A., of 20, 11ollos-street, Cavendish-square, ton'it, daughter of the 'eta Sir James Tennant, li.C•l3'. B. ',or iI L ,:EtiEbusvrs.isorrqdr,—)l.ol:"Ctelitnoi r.aoN l yr, N re,: L ts A he rr ec Q . A . s t o U n p o t o f u N G . I B d . 0 1, 11 a n s r i c i h , , B il c i s R. N., to . to , , youngest daughter of the late A...W. tllll Dn )i. ei:opang e t ( h i e 74. 15th John Davis, inst., s e t a , ths . iNA 15th inst., a t 121, PieeadillY, M - - s 8 o f C 1 01 1: e k Wandsworth, Essex, Sr. ey , a a n. g 'd e ' d \V 3 c9l . lt3l°"' cestershire, aged 64, of -Rsq., G -) ! ,. Y.--On the 15th inst Henry George GOY , 13ootie' ROBINSON.—On the 10th inst., at Sandford House, near Liverpool, Thomas Robinson, Esq., age d 1 Pieter TOLLEMACHE.—On the 14th inst., at Ham lious.e, ,iister sham, Surrey, Lady Frances Emily Tolleraacnat to the Earl of Dysart, aged 70. Brockwurth, ell l'be r WinTmAßsif. —On the 16th inst,, at Lowishata, Whitmarsh, Esq., aged 75. --------- ------- ------—Nllitos, London : Prtuzed and Prbitshed by WILLI4o, Die. 132 : Of No. 112, Strand, Printer, at TilE SON (-_,, , o ti 0 1 Strand, in the Precinct of the 23avoy.-irt tau 411141`gez,—Wednesday, August 17, Ml'